


On the Ledge

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: Iris cares for an exhausted Barry.





	On the Ledge

A heavy sigh escapes his lips.

Next to him, he sees, almost  _feels,_ her hurrying around him from the corner of his eye. He wants to calm her down, wants to tell her he's okay, but the exhaustion gets the best of him. Instead, he leans hard against the counter, his body weight shifting from his feet to the granite, cold countertop.

She crowds his space, bringing one arm around the middle of his back. The other hand extends to wrap one of his arms around her shoulder. "Come on, Bear," she fusses, pulling him paper-tight against her body. "Walk with me."

"C-can't," cracks his voice. It pains him to speak, to move, to stand, but he doesn't want to show her too much of that. She nudges again, and he breaks down, the tears in his eyes seeing the daylight of his cheeks. "Iris..."

"I know, I know," she shushes him, exerting more effort to move him. He thinks she'll carry him if she has to, doesn't doubt the length she'll go, so he tries his best to move with her, to ease her worries.

"Good, good," Iris reassures, still gripping him securely, "just one step at a time, that's it."

By some luck, he manages to walk all the way to the couch, the closest fabric she could guide him to. He groans loudly when he drops into the cushion, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain.

"Okay," Iris scurries again, and she's going faster than even he can. First a pillow on one arm of the couch, then a blanket drapes over his legs, then his cowl is being pulled off, and finally his damaged, heat-stricken suit unzips and he is naked and vulnerable and  _tired_ , so tired from the stress of the day, but Iris maneuvers his body, manages to rest his uncombed hair on the pillow, bring his legs up lay along the length of the couch, and covers his body with the warmth of the blanket.

"This'll hurt." 

Before he has time to respond, he feels the sting of a needle pierce into his thigh. She's spent too much time in the med bay, and he's always had an inclination that it was so she could learn what to do in times like this, times when he shows up unexpected, looking like death in front of her, feeling cold and pale, almost without a heartbeat.

"You need to rest," Iris says, sitting next to him briefly, before running out again to grab a beaker of water and five protein bars. "When you wake up, eat these," she points, "and drink this," she references the beaker, which she places in front of him on the table. 

What he wants is to say thank you, to say that he's sorry, to tell her he hates worrying her, that he's okay, really it's just something that'll pass, that the fire was stronger than he was, but that he's still alive.

Instead, his vision gets foggy and he can barely make out the dark brown eyes that he loves so much. Her face blurs; he knows she's next to him, can feel the touch of her palm grazing his cheek, can feel her wandering fingers pushing back his hair, but he can't do anything about it, can't even nod in gratitude.

The next thing he knows, the world goes dark.

* * *

Sometime around what she assumes is midnight, she hears the groggy ruffling of his body. 

She must've fallen asleep seated at the kitchen table, head resting on the backs of her hands. Her back aches, as does her neck, the position uncomfortable. Whenever Barry visits her as the Flash in the late evenings of the night, the sleep that she gets is little, usually leaving her craving more. Tonight is no exception.

Iris worries about him, especially these days. It's like he's been running on empty, a restless kind of race, one where he doesn't slow down, doesn't take a breath, forgets himself in the process.

She's tried catching him, really, but he won't listen. And she knows he's still reeling from the death of his dad, knows the fights he's had with evil speedsters are enough to kick him into overdrive. But she's tried. On  _The Central City Citizen,_ her readers rave about him. Sightings of the Flash in action, whether saving the day or patrolling the nights, people love him. And Iris constantly reminds him, whenever she sees him; she tells him of their comments, tells him he should be proud, smiles extra hard in hopes of eliciting something out of him too.

It doesn't usually work.

He seems more inward drawn than she's seen him since his mom died. It took years for him to see the light again after that. She hopes his light hasn't gone out.

But still. He visits her from time to time, like this, like how he showed up tonight, with a suit nearly burned off and eyes so tired and blank. He clings onto her for dear life, and she gives him everything she has, offers him whatever solace he's willing to take with the touch of her hands and the sound of her voice.

She doesn't leave his side during nights like this. She'll keep her distance in case he needs it, but not enough to miss his actions, miss his calling her.

Like now.

"Bear?"

She pushes her seat back just as he makes his way into the kitchen.

There's a whimsical smile drawing on his face, one she can't quite place, but it reassures her enough to allow her lips to quirk up a little as well.

"Hi," he says sheepishly, the light from the lamp dancing in his eyes.

She raises her eyebrows, now her smile beaming. "Rough night?" she teases, knowing the groan that'll escape his lips before it even happens, followed by the laugh and the shrug of his shoulders.

"Guess you could say that, yeah." He takes another step towards her, but she's already drifting away, walking towards the kitchen to fix him something to eat.

The medicine she gave him, along with his accelerated healing, usually brings him back to reality within a few hours. From previous experience, she's learned that not even the protein bars suffice; when he wakes up, he's always hungry.

Iris keeps a stack in her apartment, as well as her dad's house. On the off chance that she spends the night at Barry's, she also makes sure he's always got two cupboards full.

"Iris," he calls out, as she paces in front of him.

"Just gonna make some sandwiches," she calls over her shoulder. "Go sit, Barry. Rest a little more."

When she hears the sound of footsteps approaching her, she glances up, ready to tell him to go back to the couch and lay down again. Instead of getting the words out however, she feels him engulf her in a hug, one that welcomes in a newfound intimacy between them.

They've been tiptoeing on the edge of... _something_  for the past few weeks, but neither has said a word. Both were busy, both were working, and she didn't know about him, but she was afraid to ruin anything if she asked any questions.

The touches between them were rare nowadays; so were their visits together. Brief, sporadic moments resulted from near-death experiences or random check-ins at inconvenient times. But right now, it was just the two of them, with Barry more awake and in the moment than she's remembered him being for a while, and his arms wrapped comfortably around her, bringing her her favorite kind of solace.

She allows him to pull her into his body, and when he rests both hand on the small of her back, she lets her head fall to his chest, lets her hand play neck while the other rests on his shoulder. Iris is part cautious, part curious.

"Sorry," he mutters into her neck, and it tickles from a combination of the sound waves and new scruff he's let grow.

"No," she breathes, quietly, "I'm glad you came."

Barry presses a kiss to the top of her head, and Iris fiercely clings onto him tighter than earlier. In moments like this, she swears there's lightning between them, around them, filling the room with an intensity of light. She feels it bubbling between his chest and her chest, and she squeezes her eyes shut, willing away the tears, just letting herself breathe his air for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," Barry repeats, in a hushed voice. She almost lets it go, until his hands begin to unravel from her back.

He puts distance between them, and she grounds herself again, using the cold of the countertop as a remedy.

"You apologize too much."

Barry rubs both of her arms up and down. "It's because I always worry you too much."

She shakes her head.

"It's true," he smiles, sincerely, and  _god_ if he would just stop apologizing and start realizing that she'd do this every single time, again and again, till the end of their lives, if only he'd realize that he never burdens her, that she'll be his hero whenever he needs her to be.

"Barry -"

"- I know what you're going to say," Barry cuts her off, which makes her scrunch her nose in frustration. 

The ingredients to the food she was going to make him sit still on the counters. There isn't another sound in sight, aside from the infrequent sound of a car whooshing by her barely cracked windows.

It's just the two of them, and he's still pressed into her, still has her lower body trapped between his, still is massaging the muscles in her arms as he maintains her gaze.

"I come here unannounced, then you take care of me with your magic, then I leave, sometimes without even saying thank you, then you don't see me and I don't see you for days on end, then I get hurt again and the cycle repeats," he says, referencing their previous endeavors for the past few months.

And even when he's calling himself out, she has the immediate urge to argue, to defend him, to tell him that she understands he's been coping and she'll wait as long as he wants her to.

When she begins to speak, he interrupts again. "Iris West," he says in a voice so sweet it tastes like honey, "you are the greatest thing to ever happen to this world."

Iris finally meets his eyes.

His long eyelashes protect his pretty irises and she sees the soft crinkles around his mouth, stares at his lips for a moment too long before looking at him again.

And before she knows it, she finds him kissing her eyelids shut, first the left, then the right, then the bump of her nose, then the ghost of his lips hovering over hers.

He pulls away before she can lean into him.

Slowly, she opens her eyes and sees him still intently staring down at her.

Goodness, he's so tall, and she feels so small, wrapped up within in him like this, every part of him surrounding her, crowding into her, almost pushing her into the counter.

"What was that for?" She asks softly, her voice difficult to find.

"I love you."

Involuntarily, her eyebrows quirk up.

"More than anything," he continues, not masking the smile drawing on his lips. "I love you."

She smiles too.

"Yeah?" She asks, shyly. Barry Allen made her feel every single emotion, from frustrated to loved, even shy and vulnerable amidst all the confidence she held inside of her.

He nods. "So much."

She's heard enough, she decides, bringing her lips up, this time pressing them firmly against his.

Her hand finds its way to his neck again, and she plays with the longest locks of hair, breathes him in like he's her only lifeline, and she is so content for the first time in a long time.

Barry, bless him, doesn't relieve the pressure, instead lifting her up and setting her on the top, food and pain and worries long-forgotten.

She kisses him for what seems like ages, lets her tongue dance with his, lets her legs wrap around his waist and her arms rub along his back. She can't remember if she told him she loves him too, his taste too intoxicating, making her forget anything else, making her thoughts disappear a dark black, making her focus only on the details between them, like his hums and sighs, like the way he tastes, but she loves him too, loves him with everything she has, loves him more than anything else.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Iris," he whispers, when she lets him pull away.

"Mhm," her hand trails down his back, while the other traces his bottom lip. "Anytime,  _Flash_ ," she grins, leaning in to kiss him again. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this reminded me of the AU I wanted to write where the staff (Iris, Linda, Cisco) from the Central City Citizen and the staff from the CC Gazette (Cynthia, Barry, Wally) square off in an epic journalism race to break the news of the upcoming scandals of the new election. And in the process, Iris and Barry fall in love.
> 
> I'll write it someday *insert upside-down smiley face*


End file.
